


Through Tears I Do Not See

by brokenEisenglas



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Desperation, Lust, M/M, More - Freeform, Other, Pining, Self-degredation, Unrequited Love, friends - Freeform, self-hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenEisenglas/pseuds/brokenEisenglas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He does not deserve this...</p>
<p>A one-shot that popped into my head while at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Tears I Do Not See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainwatson](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=captainwatson).



> It has been quite a while since I have written anything like this... This is not edited, betaed, or anything of the type... Only warning is, it hurt my heart to write it.
> 
> Listened to "Feel Like Falling" by Digital Daggers while writing (on repeat). Might try it that way.

Tears fell from his eyes. With every stroke, a new pain shot through his heart. _"Alone, alone is what protects me._ "

How stupid could he have been?

Them pressing against the slit, his head thrown back into the pillows, his sobs came freely.

_"You machine!"_

Is that what he was? Is that what he still is? ... to him? After two years away, one month of return, and very few- oh so few- hours spent together, is that what John saw?

A machine.

Pressure built low in his gut, he knew he was close. Increasing the speed of his strokes, he could not help but think, _"I don't deserve this."_

He remembered John's smile, his laugh, his pacing and yelling. He remembered his jams and jumpers, the smell of his washes, and the tap-tap-tapping of the keyboard.

He doesn't deserve this... these memories.

So close to the edge, he does not realize he gasps and moans between hic-coughs and sobs.. He does not realize his toes are curled, his back arched, knees bent... one hand desperately clinging to the headboard.

He does not see John in the doorway.

But, he remembers: the dimples, the uneven tan, the one time he saw sculpted arms and flat abs through white fabric...

His eyes.

Sherlock cries out, a desperate cry, to a deity he does not believe in...

Because he does not deserve this.

He does not deserve the ~~right honor privilege~~ gift of saying _his_ name.

Calming, his breaths begin to even once more... and then, he notices.

A second set of quick, shallow inhalations... ones he recognizes... he fears.

What is so obviously shame settles into his expression and he cannot wipe it away. His humanity will not let him. He does not want to open his eyes. He does not want to see _but, oh, so badly_ he does. He _wants_ and he needs to see...

"John," it is barely more than a whisper, like a prayer in the wind expected to go unanswered. He raises his pale eyes to those like sapphire gems. What he expects to see, he does not know, but it is not this. "John?"

The other man stares, transfixed by the rumpled, tear-streaked, sweat covered detective. He devours the sight before him. And, then, he sees- no, observes- the fear and shame in his friend's gaze. The other man averts his eyes to a spot feet away from where John stands... John won't have it. Before he is conscious of his movements, he is on the bed, settled between the detective's thighs,his face only inches from the flaccid cock in front of him. He does not question his body's decisions...

He wants Sherlock.

Needs him.

And, he will take _all_ that he can get.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to know anyone's thoughts on this. What could I have done different? What did you like, dislike? Why?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
